


Ships in the Night

by Curator



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multishipper's Paradise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24705637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curator/pseuds/Curator
Summary: Drabbles of Voyager relationships as seen through the eyes of a participant in a competing relationship. (Basically someone yearning for/lusting over/wanting to be with another person they can't have.) Regular and unaltered Endgame timelines.
Relationships: Ayala/Kathryn Janeway, B'Elanna Torres/Tuvok (Star Trek), Chakotay/B'Elanna Torres, Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay/Seven of Nine, Chakotay/Tom Paris, Chakotay/Tuvok (Star Trek), Harry Kim/B'Elanna Torres, Harry Kim/Seven of Nine, Harry Kim/Tom Paris, Harry Kim/Tuvok (Star Trek), Kathryn Janeway/B'Elanna Torres, Kathryn Janeway/Mark Johnson, Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine, Kathryn Janeway/Tom Paris, Kathryn Janeway/Tuvok (Star Trek), Neelix/Tuvok (Star Trek), Seven of Nine/B'Elanna Torres, The Doctor (Star Trek)/Seven of Nine, Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres, Tom Paris/Seven of Nine
Comments: 181
Kudos: 75





	1. Chakotay/Seven through the eyes of Janeway/Chakotay

She watches the dance.

Blonde hair shines and dark hair gleams. 

A once-rigid spine is loose and a once-loose spine stands tall. 

Bodies in motion. 

Minds with a passion for societal development, for flourishing out here, not waiting for a magic someday on a planet none of them may ever see again.

All eyes are on the bride and groom. 

The door hisses and it’s cold in the corridor. Her eyes sting and her own words from five years earlier come unbidden.

She speaks them, forces reality to echo in her ears: “Then I guess I am alone, after all.”


	2. Paris/Torres through the eyes of Paris/Kim

He’s a fool and he knows it. 

“My couch is your couch,” he says every time. 

Every time someone golden-haired gets kicked out of his own quarters and shows up with a duffel bag. 

Every time they sit side by side on the couch, duffel bag on the floor, and one of them suggests a little something to drink, just to take the edge off.

Every time their trousers drop and their hands slip and the edge is off, my God, there is no edge— only this moment, only this feeling.

Every time someone golden-haired is gone in the morning.


	3. Janeway/Torres through the eyes of Paris/Torres

An advantage of medical training is he can recognize unskilled use of a dermal regenerator. 

“Captain,” he stands in front of her desk, “that problem in Engineering must’ve been a doozy. B’Elanna got home just in time to grab a fresh uniform for this morning’s shift.”

“It was quite time-consuming, yes.” Pale pink bite marks shine on her cheek.

He proffers a padd. “If you ever need an extra set of hands down there—”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” She takes the padd. “That won’t be necessary.”

A disadvantage of medical training is he can recognize unskilled use of a dermal regenerator.


	4. Kim/Seven through the eyes of Kim/Torres

That bitch.

Why him? Why out of everyone on the ship did that former drone have to choose the person who looked at her in that Ocampan clinic?

Not at her ridges. 

At _her_. 

And she took that for granted. Teased him by calling him “Starfleet” because it would have been stupid, so stupid, to use the nickname that was really on the tip of her tongue... “sweetheart.” 

But he didn’t pursue her and another man did and she fell into a marriage she never wanted.

And now he looks at someone else and her Klingon stomachs twist with regret.


	5. Janeway/Ayala through the eyes of Janeway/Chakotay

He drinks coffee so hot it burns his tongue. 

That’s what she wants, right? The strong, silent type. The sort of guy who doesn’t bother to tell her stories or argue or talk back.

Or talk at all.

What a dolt he had been, thinking she wanted to be praised, to be challenged, to be encouraged to consider options. 

She wants to be serviced. He sees that now. She wants someone who will keep her secrets and do what he’s told. 

Obedience. 

That’s what she wants. 

So he scalds his tongue with the bitter brew she taught him to crave.


	6. Doctor/Seven through the eyes of Kim/Seven

He wants to be ugly, to be small-minded and petty. To label them two computers in love or some sort of Delta Quadrant _Pygmalion_.

But he knows it’s no subroutine that softens holographic eyes with affection when she’s near. Knows it’s her own humanity, not something learned, that sends her lips curving upward when she sees the man she adores housed within photons and forcefields.

So he says things like, “How are the lovebirds today?” and “That duet was beautiful!” and “Holodeck’s all yours— enjoy.”

Because he wants to be ugly, to be small-minded and petty. 

But he just can’t.


	7. Paris/Kim through the eyes of Chakotay/Paris

Captain Proton and Buster Kincaid. 

Inseparable. 

Oh, but once it was Captain Chakotay, and the pilot whose hands were strong on hips as his thick—

“Commander!”

It’s him, rushing, breathless, cheeks flushed, down the corridor.

“Sir, I was wondering if I could switch to the night shift again tomorrow.”

“More time with Harry?”

His lips curl upward, piercing a still-hopeful heart.

“Consider it done, Tom.”

The hand that clasps a shoulder in thanks touches another man, now. It would be wrong to reach for it, to twine their fingers, to—

He’s gone.

If only the memories would go with him.


	8. Janeway/Paris through the eyes of Janeway/Chakotay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by voyfan2.

He always believes her. 

“Of course not. Assignments are merit-based, including chief conn officer.”

“Of course not. I barely remember warp ten.”

“Of course not. Someone had to uncover the spy.”

Eager to share a reconfigured duty roster, he queries the computer for her location and taps his code to enter the navigational control room.

It’s pale arms and legs, red-shouldered uniforms on the floor, and two sets of wide, wild blue eyes.

Later, she chimes at his door.

“Are you going to tell people?”

He swallows his pain, transforms her lie into his truth, and says, “Of course not.”


	9. Janeway/Chakotay through the eyes of Chakotay/Paris

She tries it behind his back. 

Literally, behind his back.

“I’m programming a new replicator recipe tonight,” she practically purrs across the command chairs. “Feeling brave?” 

“Captain!” he interrupts with faux alarm. “Protostellar nebula five light years ahead. _Starfleet protocol_ is clear. Would you like me to _follow regulations_ for our approach?” 

“Yes, Lieutenant,” comes the stiff-voiced reply. “Protocol and regulations. Yes.” 

He hears her stand, stride away. 

“If you need me, I’ll be in my ready room. You have the bridge, Mr. Chakotay.” 

And with only the person he wants behind his back, literally, behind his back, he smiles.


	10. Janeway/Johnson through the eyes of Janeway/Chakotay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by arcadia75.

That guy?

That’s the guy she pined over for all those years?

That grey-haired ponderer wouldn’t make it a minute in the boxing ring, an hour on the bridge, or a day in her beloved Starfleet. 

And that guy, that pencil-necked buffoon, gave up on her too soon, didn’t have the foresight to wait, as if there could possibly be a better partner, a better person.

“Chakotay.” His golden-haired girlfriend tugs on his elbow. “What are you looking at? Etiquette suggests we mingle among various guests at the welcome home party.”

That guy. 

Gave up too soon. 

What an idiot.


	11. Seven/Torres through the eyes of Seven/Janeway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Wickedbrdway.

Intellectual compatibility. That’s got to be what drew them to each other. Their discussion now, bathed in blue light from the warp core, surely mirrors late-night talks in their quarters about fuel cells and plasma relays and how her ocular implant makes those sapphire eyes even more intoxicating.

Ahem.

Pure intellectual compatibility. Discourse and debate. Ruby-red lips opening and closing, metal-tipped fingers that must be cold and warm and— 

“Do you agree, Captain?” 

A pale cheek under fingertips.

“Captain?”

Licking every one of those silver implants until—

“Captain?”

Oh. “Excellent plan.”

Intellectual compatibility. Clearly, that’s their relationship. Pure intellectual compatibility.


	12. Chakotay/Paris through the eyes of Janeway/Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by MiaCooper.

She approves his conn report and adds, “If you’re so inclined, Mr. Paris, I presume you do know other ways to fly?”

The glint in her eye is like his father— _one in every port, Tommy, you keep one in every port_. He babbles excuses, then he runs. 

Right into someone who takes one look at him, leads him into an office with tea at the ready, not coffee, and says, “Let me tell you a story.”

And this shared love of stories, of romance, gives him what she could never offer and this man isn’t a port, he’s home.


	13. Janeway/Seven through the eyes of Paris/Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by MiaCooper. Appreciation, too, to SeemaG who pointed me to “Day of Honor” when I began to worry I had hallucinated Tom’s early kindness toward Seven.

He lies to himself that he warned her.

_We all have a past._

Dropped hints.

_What matters is now._

Offered.

_If there's any way I can help you adjust to your life here on Voyager, please ask me._

Her humanity was new and he thought his desire for her would wane.

Instead, he twists under sharp stabs of shame as she mistakes the affections of someone whose past is career before love and whose present is seduction in service of manipulation. 

And because she never asks for his help, they adjust separately— both aching for what they will never have.


	14. Paris/Torres through the eyes of Torres/Tuvok

Logic, he knows, is the beginning of wisdom, not the end.

Yet the wisdom of this coupling is unclear.

Variations in preferences for entertainment and meals are understandable. However, the imbalance in physical fortitude is troubling. 

She is strong.

So strong.

Like a Vulcan woman, able to withstand significant force and deliver powerful responses to stimuli of various erogenous zones. In addition, her engineering prowess would, no doubt, extend to the mechanics of vigorous activity. 

Horizontal activity. 

Activity against a bulkhead. 

Activity requiring her consent and, with that improbable, logic dictates he resume his duties and discontinue this impractical contemplation.


	15. Janeway/Chakotay through the eyes of Torres/Chakotay

He would stalk the _Val Jean_ , spitting orders. 

Chest out.

Chin up. 

Fists ready.

Not anymore. He’s a sycophant now, a coward who steps softly to her ready room with a report— or, when summoned, to her quarters with a padd everyone knows is blank.

He needs someone to light the flame in his belly, not douse it with decorum and polite words. He needs someone who understands who he used to be, who he can be again. 

But if this is the life he wants, if this satisfies him, then he’s even more of a coward than she thought.


	16. Janeway/Tuvok through the eyes of Janeway/Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by queen-x-ishtar.

The weapons console had blown, and he holds a burnt, brown hand in his pale one, scanning to calibrate the dermal regenerator. 

Readings show human DNA under the fingernails. 

“Is he going to be all right?” The captain crouches next to him. 

“May I?” He reaches for her hand. 

She nods. 

He scans. 

There’s Vulcan DNA under her fingernails.

His eyes close, a moment of mourning for what he had thought, maybe—

“Is he going to be all right?” The urgency in her voice, he understands now. 

“He’s going to be fine.” His smile is tight. “He’s a lucky guy.”


	17. Janeway/Paris through the eyes of Chakotay/Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by MiaCooper.

He wakes up twisted in bedding, his sheets damp with sweat and semen.

It’s the same dream every time.

The Ocampan underground. 

Carried on strong shoulders, listening to soothing words. 

In his imagination, he has the courage to voice forgiveness for old hurts, not convey his appreciation through a messenger. 

A messenger who, in the waking world, can’t know the pain she inflicts when cries of her own appreciation drift through a bulkhead most nights, accompanied by the deeper voice of his dreams. 

He pulls the sheets off his bed. At least this is one mess he can clean up.


	18. Tuvok/Kim through the eyes of Neelix/Tuvok

He watches them play Kal-toh.

Silence. 

Brain-bending, mind-shattering silence between moves. 

It’s unnatural, this comfort in silence. He would offer jokes, reminiscences, commentary on the game. 

He would offer a soothing touch, an understanding ear, a playful squeeze. 

It would be beautiful, spotted skin on dark skin, a mouth quick to smile pressed to lips that are too often set in an unyielding line.

He grabs a plate of leola root turnovers, walks carefully to their table, takes a deep breath. 

“Snack, gentlemen?”

The line yields downward. “Thank you, no.”

The silence returns and he fights the urge to scream.


	19. Tuvok/Chakotay through the eyes of Janeway/Chakotay

She doesn’t know what the hell happened on that Maquis ship, but she’s glad T’Pel can’t find out.

The two of them.

Holding hands in turbolifts.

Sharing vegetarian meals in the mess hall.

Trading stories about customs and rituals. 

Are they calm in bed, too? Carefully removing clothing and folding it before making polite love?

There's something under that tattoo, damnit, a strength of mind she wants to take for a tumble in the sheets.

But she looks into her best friend’s eyes and knows she would never, ever try to steal away what he is fortunate enough to have.


	20. Torres/Kim through the eyes of Paris/Kim

He tries to stop it. 

“She’s so hostile. Is that what you want? You’ve told me that Libby was also your best friend. Isn’t that better?”

But it’s the same old story. 

“Hey, Tom, great to see you, but I’m having dinner with B’Elanna tonight. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?”

Of course.

Why did he think this would be different? 

Why, even after their stay in the Akritirian prison, can’t he find the courage to just say it?

Why did he believe this man who stood by him at first would stand by him forever just because…

Because…

Damnit.


	21. Torres/Kim through the eyes of Paris/Torres

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Raven_mcbain_monkeymouse.

She playfully says the word he was taught to revere.

“Starfleet.”

His best buddy volleys back a light-hearted, “Maquis,” and this little game of theirs is bullshit. He’s lived both sides— the institution his father made a religion and the group that made him a traitor, an outcast with no visitors in prison until religion came for him again. 

His friends flirt with each other and he wants to twist his fingers into his ears, to squelch the labels that tore his life apart. 

Because he likes her, wants to get to know her… but he can’t play this game.


	22. Janeway/Chakotay through the eyes of Janeway/Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by MiaCooper.

Who does she think she’s fooling?

He grew up around Starfleet. He’s met captains and first officers who are friends.

Actual friends— not “ _Cha-kooo-tay_ ” and “ _Kathhh-ryn_ ” breathiness across command chairs that makes him want to swivel in his seat and tell them to get a room already.

Except he would bet his life that they already have. 

The life she saved.

The life he thought maybe they could share, playing pool and throwing back drinks, pretending their admiral fathers didn’t mess them up and their fuck-Starfleet sisters weren’t the real heroes. 

Dumb dream.

Who did he think he was fooling?


End file.
